


Kickback's Pet

by Ayngelcat



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack, Dark, Gen, Horror, Humor, human torture and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:30:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayngelcat/pseuds/Ayngelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrote this for speedwriting a while back.</p><p>Title: Kickback’s Pet<br/>Prompt: picture - was of a guy in handcuffs but it does not seem to be available any more. Don't really need it anyway!<br/>Universe: G1<br/>Rating: NC17<br/>*Warnings:* Very dark humour. Please do not read if you're squeamish or are disturbed by bad things happening to humans. Insecticons are cute and amusing, but violent. *This fic* has torture and death of an unknown human and references to insecticons eating humans. You have been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kickback's Pet

“What in the name of the Almightius is that?” said Bombshell, as a shrill wailing sounded from through the trees. He put down the human newspaper and frowned.  
  
Shrapnel did not look up from the TV. “Kickback’s pet, pet,” he said. “It gets like that sometimes, sometimes. When he makes it do too much, much.”  
  
“His .... what?” Bombshell was on his feet.  
  
“His pet, pet. A human he caught, when we got the TV, TV.”  
  
“That’s ... well it’s outrageous, Shrapnel! Don’t just sit there! We have to do something about it!”  
  
Bombshell started to walk off towards the sound, winding his way through the scrub beneath the thick canopy of trees.  
  
With a sigh, Shrapnel got up and followed, clicking the video on ‘record’ before he left. This was the first documentary on Earth Stag Beetles the insecticon had seen, and he was damned if he was missing out on account of Kickback’s antics.  
  
******  
  
As they tramped along, the yells continued, accompanied by a crashing of undergrowth and the sound of water splashing. A flock of earth birds emerged, zooming over their heads and flitting away through the trees.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” snapped Bombshell.  
  
“What’s so bad about it, it?”  
  
“Because it draws attention!” said Bombshell. “Now it’s been quite peaceful here lately, Shrapnel. You have to admit – I’ve been able to get on with my cerebroshell program, you’ve had your TV, Kickback was developing his cloning program - _I thought!_ Obviously not, however!”  
  
There were some more wails, then silence. “It’ll bring the Autobots!” Bombshell grumbled on. “And then we’ll have Megatron and a host of Decepticons here. Granted, I can talk my way out of anything when it comes to that idiot, and he’s useful when we’re running out of energon. But the rest of the time, he isn’t, and for now we’re quite well stocked thanks to the oil tanker raid and my distilling skills.  
  
“The raid, yes,” said Shrapnel. “ _That’s_ when he got it. Not the TV time, time.”  
  
**********  
  
The human was a male specimen, with a mop of dark head covering. It was streaked with mud. Kneeling on what looked like an old human armchair – the Almightius only knew for where Kickback had procured that – it was clad only in some black garment, the like of which these creatures wore around their lower regions.  
  
Its arms were behind it's back, and Kickback was in the process of securing it in handcuffs which, Bombshell noted with annoyance, were his – the ones he’d used to restrain humans previously in the cerebroshell program.  
  
It was whimpering. “Please let me g..g..g..go!” it was saying. Or something. As Shrapnel and Bombshell approached it looked up, the strange little pulpy optics bulging with obvious terror. It whimpered some more and struggled, its frame shaking harder. A stream of fluid trickled out of it, on to the chair.  
  
Kickback locked the cuffs, unperturbed by the human's 'state'. He looked up and beamed. “Hey!” He said, getting up. “I was going to put him away. But now I can show you his _tricks!”_  
  
**********  
  
“I thought you liked eating these, these?” Shrapnel said as the human charged around the clearing, leaping over various obstacles, splashing through pools and turning somersaults at the insecticon’s command. It wore throughout an expression of utter terror, and let out a series of piteous grunts and whimpering sounds.  
  
“Oh I will eventually,” said Kickback. “They don’t taste that good though, you know. Well – not these wiry ones. They’re more fun like this!”  
  
“Another circuit,” he yelled at the human is it slowed, looking pleadingly, hopelessly at the assembled insecticons.  
  
Bombshell folded his arms. “Now Kickback, he said reproachfully,” you know you have to put it back!”  
  
As the human took off again, the crackle of twigs and branches combining with the squelch of boggy ground, Kickback looked surprised. Then his expression turned to a defiant stare. “Why?” he demanded. “I spent all this time training it and making sure it doesn’t run away and you want me to put it back? No way!”  
  
“Kickback I’m afraid you must. Besides, I need the handcuffs.”  
  
Kickback pouted, turning back to his subject. Perhaps, he thought, he could persuade Bombshell otherwise. “Watch this!” he said.  
  
“Picking up a metal prod, he extended it toward the human, which stumbled sideways and raised its hands, optics wide. _"Noooooo!"_ it yelled. _"Nooooooohh!!"_  
  
“Do it again! Jump higher – and three extra somersaults!” Kickback yelled back.  
  
The human looked as though it were reaching the point of offlining. Its body streaked with wetness and mud, hair matted, its intakes heaved frenetically as it took off once more. “Faster! Higher!” Kickback yelled as it only just managed the first somersault, stumbling forward.  
  
There was a buzz and a crackle and a bolt of electricity shot from the rod, straight into the human. It screamed, it’s hands coming up as it fell into the next pool with an almighty splash. Picking itself up again, spluttering, it stumbled forward, crying out. There was a crash as it collided with the next obstacle.  
  
Bombshell still looked disapproving, but Shrapnel looked impressed. “Not bad, bad!” he said. “But obviously not enough, Kickback, Kickback. Let me be of assistance, assistance!”  
  
As the human struggled to regain it’s feet, whimpering loudly, he extended a hand. It crackled with blue energy, and then a single bolt tore across the forest, infinitely more powerful than the one from Kickback’s rod.  
  
The human screamed one last time, microseconds before the bolt struck home. It’s body went rigid, as it seemed to ‘light up.’ Then, it burst into flames, pitching face first into a nearby pool as the fire engulfed it. A plume of acrid black smoke billowed forth.  
  
Bombshell turned away, coughing. “No really, this won’t do! He said. “That smells terrible! And if it wasn’t so wet, we could have had a serious fire!”  
  
*************  
  
The corpse sizzled, blackening as the flames died down. The three stood watching as it turned to a smoldering black humanoid shape.  
  
“Damn it, Shrapnel!” Bombshell shook his head.  
  
“Hmmnn,” said Shrapnel. “I suppose they can’t take that as well as Cybertronians – tronians. I thought he would just go faster, faster!"  
  
But Kickback, who always liked Shrapnel’s displays and had found himself quite mesmerised by this one, now turned to Shrapnel in annoyance. “You idiot! D’you know how long it took, and what I had to put up with to get him like that!”  
  
Shrapnel looked apologetic. Moving over to Kickback, he patted his arm. “Never mind, Kickback! I barbequed him for you, you. Apparently they’re quite nice like that, that!”  
  
But Kickback shrugged off the arm. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. “Look at him! He’s way overdone.” He looked at them both furiously. “Well you can eat him if you want. I’m outta here!”  
  
Crossing to the chair, he grabbed the handcuffs. Then, without another glance at his fellow insecticons, he stormed off into the forest. “Where are you going?” Bombshell called out.  
  
“To get another one!” The grasshopper transformed and, jumping into the air, buzzed away through the trees.  
  
Bombshell turned to Shrapnel. “Go and get him will you,” he said. “And try and keep him better occupied than you have of late, Shrapnel. That was, admittedly, rather pretty, but I think I have made it clear why we could well do without this sort of performance!”  
  
As Shrapnel took off after his colleague, Bombshell wandered over to the body. Indeed, far too overcooked for eating. The insecticon tut-tutted. But he picked up a stick and prepared to give it a good prod.  
  
See if it had any brain left. It still might come in useful with some cerebroshell research.


End file.
